First Winter Flight

Friday I checked the weather a few times and it looked like there would be a hole Saturday morning (the past week has been non-stop cold, gray, and light snow).

I stopped by the hangar Friday evening after work and hooked up the engine pre-heater (two 100w bulbs in trouble lights, two moving blankets, a carpet remnant, and an old army duffel bag wrapped around the cowling with a rope tied off on the prop). I give the bird a pat, take one last look, then turn off the lights and close the big sliding metal hangar door. The lock is cold as I jam it shut and twist the combination dial. I should replace this -- it's going to get water inside and freeze and then I'll be stuck. Note to self -- buy new lock.

I woke early Saturday and looked outside. While the sky was completely overcast, the haze beneath wasn't too bad. a check of the local METARS shows generally decent conditions with lowest reported visibility of 4 miles.

Janet has an all-day event at church today so I leave after she does and drive the truck to Waynesburg. The visibility is variable but VFR all the way. Of course, the airport is sitting in the thickest soup I've seen so far. Oh well -- it will clear.

Of course, the combo lock is frozen. I let the heat from my hands seep into the lock. Make another note -- get new lock.

I push the hangar doors open and light streams in the darkness. The bulbs are still on. I reach underneath the blanket expecting warmth but instead find cold aluminum. Ugh.

I go through my usual pre-flight steps, pull the airplane out into the diffused sunshine which doesn't seem to be coming from anywhere in particular but is slightly brighter than during the drive to the airport. Maybe the layer above is thinner than forecast? Yet there is no blue -- only white in the sky.

I close the doors, tie the tailspring to the truck's tow ring, place chocks in front of the mains, and look around to make sure I haven't forgotten anything.

It's cold, so I leave my hat and jacket on. 4 shots of prime, mags to OFF. Walk around front, push blades through 14 or so times. Walk back, mags ON, walk back, throw -- nothing.

There's are moments during some hand props when you wonder "Should I turn the mags off or move this into position by hand?"

I opt for the move with care. Throw the prop -- nothing.

OK....

Back to the cabin, mags off, another two shots of prime, 4 blades through.

Mags ON, walk back front, throw -- chug, chug.

A satisfying sound, but no guarantee. It's cold out and plugs that fire can get frosted over. I run to the cabin and push the throttle in a bit -- the engine stumbles, then coughs, more cylinders fire.

I ease the throttle in, then back out and the engine settles into its cold routine of heavy chugging at 800 RPM. It's OK -- the light bulbs haven't provided much heat and it's probably 25 degrees out. I stand next to the cabin and my legs freeze in the prop blast. I pull the throttle to idle and it settles at 500 RPM. The tail spring rope untied, I walk back up and reach for the chocks, connected by a 10' rope so I can pull both front mains from the pilots side. I saw someone else do it -- It works!

I'm planning a local flight so the chocks get tossed on the snow-coated grass.

I climb in and bump the throttle to 800 RPM and listen as the engine warms, chugging more regularly, evenly. Good.

I sit and listen to the engine, looking at the gauges. All is well, and now I can relax and enjoy it. All the preparation, planning, and work is done. The airplane is running, everything's been checked -- all that's left is to roll down the taxiway, then the runway, then plunge into the sky.


A blast of power and the airplane moves, the tail wheel straightens, and I check to either side for clearance. A few maneuvers to avoid puddles (I was by an A&P that water splashed up inside a wheel can freeze and lock it in place in the air -- making for a very interesting landing).

The air is a bit less hazy now and the sky seems brighter. Winds are minimal -- the wind sock moves inches, the flag hangs limp. I can takeoff either direction but will taxi to the end of 27 to give the engine more time to warm.

Control checks, trim set -- good. Killdeer walk along the runway -- why are they always on the runway? I taxi into position, straighten the tail wheel, and add power. The birds start to walk quickly to the south side of the runway. But not fast enough. I continue adding power and now the tail comes up. Killdeer fill the bottom of the windscreen -- com'on, birds.... this airplane may be small but that propeller is gonna hurt!

The birds take flight when I'm about 30' away. I feel the wings catching and the airplane is about to take flight as well. The prop bites into the cold air and the airplane is ready to fly. I hold it on a moment more, then release some back pressure. Rolling, rolling, then no sound from the wheels.

We're flying. Birds below now. Oil pressure still good, 2300 RPM -- OK. Pull back a bit and climb at 50, add some trim. I look to the right and pick out a spot to land if I lose power now. To the left and ahead is a parking lot studded with light poles and cars -- only if I have to. Still climbing, I glance at the airspeed and altimeter -- up to 300 feet now. I start a climbing left turn. hold the ball perfectly centered, feel the engine warming, RPM increasing.

Now the airport is under my left wing and the air is hazy, but smooth. I level off about 800 feet above the ground and announce a closed pattern, fly over the field, check all the gauges -- all is good.

Time to head east and fly over the house.

I climb to 2500' (1200' or so above the ground) and clear the river and the fog. Level the airspeed exceeds 80 MPH at 2500 RPM. Nice.

I pull on the carb heat from time to time -- it's an automatic precaution on these hazy days. Carb heat applied RPM drops slightly -- good. Off and RM increases -- good.

I have some fun flying low over New Salem and the house and a few familiar hills. I climb a bit then circle over Uniontown. I'd fly further east but the mountain is barely visible in the haze. I decide to fly along the new highway and reduce power and push the nose over, enjoying the lightness of zero g.
A few hunters are visible from here -- please don't take potshots at my airplane. I'm low enough one could reach.

I zoom over the highway and enjoy the sensation of speed low-level flight. The air is thick with haze, and I keep a close eye on the RPM. So far no carb ice -- good.

I'd fly longer but the cabin heat isn't working very well so I point the airplane along a mostly west until I see familiar landmarks. The water tower near the airport appears and soon I'll be landing. I delay things a bit by climbing and doing some slow flight, then steep turns, then a practice emergency turn back.

300' altitude loss from engine idle to 180 degree change of direction. Of course a turn-back requires more than 180 degrees and there is residual thrust in the idling prop. There is also no recognition delay. But it's fun to push the nose over from climb to glide at 60 while cranking in 60 degrees of bank.

Time for some slow flight fun -- throttle back to 2000 RPM, crank in some trim, and let the airplane settle in at 60 MPH. The engine purrs and it seems the airplane is happier at this speed. Maybe I should do this more often?

55 minutes have passed. It's time to land. I fly south of the field, then do a hard 180 to join mid-field left downwind. I'm at 500' above the ground, but 1000' AGL is to high and there's no one else flying. Touchdown point 45 degrees behind me, throttle to 1500 RPM, slow to 60, crank in full trim, turn left. Slip some and pull throttle to idle. There's the runway. I'll land 1/3rd down to save the endless taxiing. I crank in enough trim to maintain 55 and then pull back to keep it at 50. The ground comes up slowly and soon the wheels touch, all three nearly simultaneously, the tailwheel rumbling on the pavement. I prefer grass but it is frosted this morning.

I taxi to the hangar, shut down, pull the airplane back into the hangar, wipe off the oil, and lock up until next time.